Professor Layton and the Dream Thief
by LaymanStuff
Summary: A new crime doer strikes the city of London, robbing riches not of gold or silver, but what? It's up to Professor Layton, his assistant Emmy, and apprentice number one Luke, to stop the elusive thief before the Professor loses himself along with his beloved top hat.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****I**** usually write longer than this, but this is just the introduction. Hope you enjoy it, and feedback is much appreciated. **

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Her boots landed softly onto the ledge of a tall building. The starry night stretched endlessly in her eyes as she gazed up. Every star twinkled brightly and dotted the dark sky brilliantly. Below her were cars the size of tiny ants and they stood frozen under the soft streetlamps. She smiled as she stood still at the very edge, allowing herself to be immersed into the city's setting. It was relaxing and calm, even if it was just for a few moments. But, it depressed her a little; she can't be here for long. She stood stiffly in place, and then she spread her bare arms like wings prepared for flight. Her body began to lean forward towards the street below and prepared to free fall. She suddenly stopped herself as she heard the portal hiss behind her. Shaking her head as to snap out of it, she hopped building to building. How she yearned to return to this city after countless dreams, it was the prettiest in her opinion. Her wavy hair fluttered as she raced towards her destination with haste. She reached a university, but ignored the grandness. Her focus was the intense warmth inside the building; she never felt anything quite like it. As she neared the university, she felt the warmth behind one of the many locked windows. She outstretched her arm to the window and flicked her small hand upwards. The window magically opened and she jumped onto the sill.

* * *

Professor Layton snoozed peacefully in his office. It was only going to be a short nap, then back to his studies, but he fell fast asleep into the late night. His window opened by itself, letting the wind swoop in. Papers fell from the cluttered desk by the window, making a mess on the floor. A shadowy figured stepped into the room shortly afterwards, and made its way to the couch. Its footsteps had no sound and it glided gracefully to the sleeping professor. Unaware, the figure loomed over him, staring at the silk top hat.

"What warmth this hat has, I can feel so many happy memories in it," the figure whispered in a greedy voice. It reached for the top hat covering the professor's face, and caressed the hat gently in both hands. Professor Layton felt the missing weight from his face and his beady eyes opened slowly. In the dim moonlight shining from the opened window, he saw an unusually dressed young girl with a cape standing by him. It was a shock to the half asleep man, but he kept his composure like a true gentleman.

"Hello, who are you young miss?" he asked. The professor felt his jaw move up and down in a sluggish manner, and mouthing the question took effort. The atmosphere was hazy, and any movement he made felt slow, it was dream-like. He noticed the girl was wearing his beloved top hat, and his hand patted the empty space above his own head by instinct. The girl giggled at his actions and tipped the brim playfully. "This is your hat silly! I'll be taking it, since it's the most precious thing to you!"

Without hesitation, she ran to the window, stepping on various documents scattered across the floor. A trail of wispy film from his hat tailed behind the girl as she made her escape and Professor Layton tried to follow. He watched his legs swing in slow motion, and his jacket crumpled onto the floor. It was too late; she had already disappeared through the window. Trying to heave himself up, he suddenly felt light headed, like someone stuck their hand in his mind and took a piece away. His vision blurred and the dark room darkened even more. The professor persisted and staggered to his feet. He looked at the fading trail with drooping eyes and saw something odd. The film in the fading trail had his memories; memories of his late girlfriend.

"Claire…" he mumbled as he saw his girlfriend's smiling face evaporated before everything turned black.

* * *

Professor Layton woke up with something over his face. He grabbed it and sat upright, while his black jacket slid down to his lap. He held the silk top hat in his hands, and examined it with curiosity. The professor turned his head at the window and saw it was locked as always with rays of sunshine filling his quaint office. He then refocused on the hat in his hands. There was a red ribbon wrapped tightly around the silk top hat, and that was it, nothing too special about it. Setting the hat down on the coffee table, he got up and moved his limbs around. The professor didn't feel sluggish anymore, and the air was no longer hazy. _It must've been a dream... a strange one that is. _

He looked down at the hat, and scratched his hazel brown hair. He saw the same exact top hat in last night's dream, but it didn't make sense. _Why would I own such a hat?_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:****If my fanfic seems boring, I apologize, it's still in its early stages. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter and feedback is much appreciated. **

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Professor Layton shuffled his graded students' papers neatly into a pile. He has a lecture at nine o'clock sharp, but its two hours too early. Taking a sip of a morning cup of lovely tea, he leaned back in his desk chair. _A moment of peace, how relaxing… _

Glancing around his desk, he frowned at the disorganized papers and files. Rosa will have another fit with him if he doesn't clean it the way she does. He started arranging historical findings and his own notes in an overly complicated system, creating a larger puzzle than he expected. The professor picked up an old bulging notebook bound loosely at its spine, and the bulge fell out and sprawled out on the floor. Professor Layton sighed and lifted his hand to his head. Empty. He expected something to be on his head, but he grasped air. His eyes shifted to the bizarre hat resting on the coffee table, and it struck him.

"Oh of course!" Professor Layton exclaimed, "My red cap! How could I forget it?" He quickly searched the room for his cap while avoiding the silk top hat, but found nothing that could be remotely bright red. _Well, I suppose I left it at home then._ The professor went back to the mess of papers and bent down to collect them. He carefully lifted each yellowed page by the corner and piled them in order. As he sorted the papers, there was a newspaper hidden amongst the notes. It wasn't as old as the notebook pages, and it looked rather recent. Reading the date printed boldly on the front page, it turned out to be yesterday's. _I never got a chance to read this; one must always be up to date with the news._

The headline was eye-grabbing, it read, "Amnesia Attacks the Good Citizens of London!" _Quite the intriguing title…_

There were snapshots of confused doctors surrounding a single patient, and they appear to be doing some sort of experiment. The professor's eyes quickly scanned the text with some words here and there. "Victims memories...concerned families...unaware...dream." It was a strange story indeed, and Professor Layton continued to read it further. The police are even involved, and they declared an official case to be opened and investigated. Their reason for involvement was the alarming speculation of a production of a new illegal drug that causes mind degrading effects. They believe an organized crime group is spreading this dangerous drug around the city. The professor shook his head as in disappointment. They didn't mention any evidence pertaining to the drug or any criminal masterminds.

He continued to read the newspaper and stood frozen in place with his forehead furrowed. Three quick raps were heard on his office door, and Rosa stepped in.

"Good morning Professor Layton." chirped Rosa.

"Hello Rosa, good morning."

"Did you sleep in your office again?" she asked eyeing the black jacket lying limply on the couch. She cleaned off the coffee table and put the books back in their respective shelves.

"As a matter of fact, I did," replied professor as he scrambled to pick up the remaining papers left on the floor. Rosa continued to clean the coffee table and took the silk top hat to the professor. "You shouldn't leave books on your coffee table, especially your most prized possession." She gave the top hat to the professor and walked over to the desk with his tea.

"The pot has gone cold; I'll heat it up for you."

"Thank you Rosa..."

She left the room with the teapot, leaving Professor Layton confused. He held the top hat with both arms and stared blankly at it. _Most prized possession? Surely she must be mistaken. _He set down the hat on the couch and looked at the time. It read five minutes before nine. _I'm afraid I won't have time more time for tea…_

The professor took his box for carrying his teaching materials and filled it with artifacts he would be teaching along with the graded papers and teaching plans. He held the box by both handles and left the room. His lecture hall was up on the third floor, and he paced himself meanwhile holding the heavy load. The professor smiled as he reached the classroom, teaching eager young minds was always a treat.

* * *

Rosa came back to the office with a tray of delicious sweets and the pot of tea. "Professor, I-Oh!" His office was deserted and the housekeeper was left by herself.

"Well now! Hm?"

She set down the tray on the table and picked up the top hat on the couch.

"His top hat…how did he forget this?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head in disbelief. Putting the hat back on the couch, she began to dust and organize the professor's office. _I swear he'll forget his head next…_

* * *

"Good morning class!" greeted Professor Layton enthusiastically. The class was quite lively, chattering and gossiping until the professor walked in. They became dead silent, and stared at the professor as he walked to his desk nonchantly. Professor Layton was unaware how his different appearance affected his students. They began to murmur in a low voice to one another.

"Hey, look at the professor."

"Where's his hat?"

"He looks so different!"

"The professor still looks dreamy without his hat!"

After unpacking his box, he finally looked up to see his students whispering.

"Settle down now, class is starting."

A hush fell over them, and they shifted their eyes back and forth. Should they dare to ask? A girl's hand shot up high in the air.

"Professor Layton!"

"Yes Sarah?"

"Where is your hat?"

"It's in my house, is it really that noticeable?"

"O-of course! This is the first time you have ever taken it off."

The other students agreed in unison and began remarking on the professor's unusual appearance.

"So that's what is under his hat!"

"He's not bald after all!"

His class is again lively, and the professor failed to understand what's so special about him not wearing a hat. Tapping his desk with a pointer, he captured his students' attention once more. "I have graded everyone's midterm research papers and I will return them by the end of class. I must say, you all did an impressive job."

Everyone cheered gleefully, and a boy from the back row called out,"Who has the highest grade?"

"Now, now, I can't tell you that."

"Oh c'mon!"

"I wanna know too!"

"I hope it's me."

His students complained and groaned, pressuring the professor.

"I can't tell you…without her consent," said Professor Layton as he looked at the blonde haired girl. Sarah met the professor's gaze and blushed a light pink, and nodded with her eyes adverted. He smiled and turned back to the rest of the class.

"Sarah received the highest grade out of the whole class. She presented an outstanding amount of evidence and a very strong thesis. If she doesn't mind, I can send copies to all of you for future reference."

The professor turned to Sarah again, and her cheeks reddened while nodding her head. The class competitors rolled their eyes in disgust; meanwhile everyone else politely congratulated Sarah.

"I'll begin now everyone," stated Professor Layton as he held up an ancient statue for everyone to see. "Now this here…"

* * *

Rosa heard a loud knock on the office door as she swept the wooden floor. "Come in!"

A young boy wore a blue cap and satchel opened the door.

"Good morning Luke."

"Hello Ms. Rosa, where's the Professor?"

"He's teaching his morning class, and come on in! I made cookies and tea, and they are on the table."

Luke grinned and ran to the coffee table. "Thank you Ms. Rosa!" He set down his satchel on the couch and was ready to pounce on the sweets waiting for him. He grabbed a butter cookie half dipped in milk chocolate and was about to stuff it in his mouth until he saw the silk top hat. His face had a quizzical look, and stared at it.

"Ms. Rosa, did you say he's teaching right now?" wondered Luke.

"Why yes, what's the matter?" Rosa asked as she stopped sweeping around the study desk.

"Are you sure? The Professor's hat is here."

"Oh! I almost forgot about that, he left it here for some peculiar reason."

The boy tilted his cap and continued to eat the cookie, but in small bites. _Should I bring the Professor's hat to him? But he would never leave his hat behind, and he said to never disturb him when he's teaching a class unless it's something urgent or an emergency. Is this an emergency?_

Rosa continued to sweep dust into a dustpan and hummed a lovely tune. Luke sat on the couch and made himself comfortable while munching. He scanned the professor's office and smiled. _I want an office just like this someday…_

"Another thing I almost forgot," said Rosa, interrupting Luke's thoughts. "Emmy came in earlier and wanted to give Professor Layton a message."

She handed Luke a small white paper with Emmy's handwriting scribbled on one side. Luke read the note to himself.

_Dear Professor Layton,_

_I won't be here in the morning; I'll be at the Scotland's Yard. Inspector Grosky needed my help on a pressing case he's working on with other inspectors. I will definitely be here in the evening._

_Best Regards._

_Emmy_

He finished reading the note and stashed it in his satchel. Luke stared at the professor's silk hat. _I'll give it to him after he's finished teaching._

* * *

The students began to pack their pens and notes and went to Professor Layton's desk. They each collected their own research paper and shuffled out of the lecture hall. Each student was happy with their grade and talked to their friends about celebrating their hard work at the local café. Well, everyone was happy except for the over achievers. Sarah was the last to collect her midterm paper, and Professor Layton was still packing his notes into the box. They were both alone in the room.

"What can I do for you Sarah?" asked the Professor as he gingerly placed each artifact into the box.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you," said Sarah with a light blush.

"What for dear? You have earned your grade, and you deserve it."

"R-Right, thank you Professor, um."

The professor looked up at the flustered girl. She was clutching her spiral notebook tightly to her chest nervously.

"Is there something wrong?"

Sarah shook her head vigorously and stammered, "D-Do you offer private tutor lessons?" She was implying a little more than a simple review. Professor Layton gave a small laugh.

"You're a bright student Sarah; I don't think you need any sort of private lessons. However, you are welcome to drop by during office hours. My room is on the first floor."

"T-Thank you Professor," thanked the embarrassed student as she fled the room with her notebook covering her green eyes. Luke was in the doorway and Sarah collided with the young boy.

"Ah!" they both cried.

"So sorry young boy!" apologized Sarah.

"No problem," replied Luke as he picked up the notebook and gave it to the university student. She quickly got up and took the notebook from him.

"Thank you!" she said as she dashed down the corridor with her pony tail swaying side to side. Sarah was too flustered to notice Luke was holding Professor Layton's silk top hat. He went in and greeted the professor.

"Hello Professor!"

"Hello Luke," said the professor as he lifted up the box. He noticed the top hat with the red satin ribbon in the boy's hands.

"Luke, I found that top hat in my office this morning, is it yours?"

The young boy looked at the professor as if he grew a second head.

"Huh?"

"I've never imagined you to own such a hat like that, since you already wear that blue cap of yours."

"Eh?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:****I'll be responding to Guest's review here since I can't reply officially.**

_**Guest**_** says: **Don't doubt yourself, I love it so far. I'm interested in finding out what happens next :)

**Aw, thank you! I hope my chapters continue to prove interesting to you!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Luke my boy, I don't own a hat like that," said Professor Layton to the young boy as they walked together down the stairs. Luke was in total shock, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He also couldn't believe he was also holding the top hat in his hands, the professor never, NEVER, takes off his silk top hat. The professor even sleeps with the hat tipped over his eyes, and possibly in the showers too. _So why now? _

Without his hat, the professor looked so different, and Luke couldn't help but gaze upon the chestnut hair above his mentor's head. He did know the professor wasn't bald since his hair peeps out under his hat when he wore it, but seeing it full was so odd. They strolled down the corridor to professor's office, meanwhile passing other people who threw strange looks at Professor Layton.

"But Professor, you wore this hat all the time! How can you possibly say that?!" Luke blurted out. _Professor, I thought this hat meant something to you…_

"Luke, a true gentleman never raises his voice in public," Professor Layton calmly said, "I'll admit that top hat is quite fashionable, but I can't wear it if it's not my own."

The professor strode to his office's door, and twisted the doorknob. It was locked. _Rosa must've left. _He dug his hand into his jacket's pocket with one hand, and the other balancing the box with his teaching materials.

"This _is_ your hat, I-"

"This conversation is going in circles, and I won't hear any more of it," scolded the professor, cutting off his apprentice. "I've never seen that hat before, and I don't understand why you're getting so worked up about it. Now, can you please hold my box while I unlock the door?"

"…Yes Professor," Luke reluctantly answered as he took the professor's box. The young boy's arms immediately almost dropped down towards the floor. "Wha-?!"

_This box is so heavy! What's in it?!_

Luke struggled to bring the box back at chest level, and he had to put in his back to make it a little easier. Peering inside, he saw the artifacts were the items that had the most weight. _There is a solid cast iron statue in here!_

Professor Layton turned the key and unlocked the door with a _click _and swung the door opened. He turned to Luke and took the box from him. "Thank you Luke."

"You're welcome…" replied Luke as he rubbed his aching arms. Following the professor into his office, Luke sat down on the couch nervously. _The Professor isn't acting himself…what should I do? _He wrung the satchel's strap in his fist as he worried on. _Oh!_

He rummaged through his bad and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Luke skipped over to the professor at the desk.

"Professor, Emmy left a message for you," informed the young boy as he handed Professor Layton the scrap of paper.

"Thank you."

The professor began to read the note to himself while Luke's face lit up. He ran over to the couch and grabbed his bag. "I'll be going out for a bit!"

Professor Layton didn't bother looking up.. "Alright, but be back soon."

"OK, will do!"

Luke rushed to the door, but the professor stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold on a minute Luke."

"Yes Professor?"

"I need more ink for my pens, would you mind buying more jars when you go out?"

"Sure thing Professor! I am your apprentice after all."

Luke closed the door behind him and scurried out of the university in a flash. He ran to the bus stop and stood by the red board. Reading the board, Luke found the stop closes to Scotland Yard. It'll take a total of three stops to get there.

_I gotta find Emmy, maybe she can help…hey! It's that lady from before._

Across the street was Sarah sitting at a small restaurant. It was gorgeous weather today, and the restaurant had set up several tables outdoor. She sat by herself at one of the identical tables with checkered tablecloth and a huge umbrella over shadowing to provide shade. She looked completely engrossed in the book she was reading while her slim fingers twiddled with something on her neck. _It's a necklace with a half of a star, and the star is so shiny! It must be some kind of metal._

He was unaware how comically he looked, balancing on one foot while leaning towards the street and his hands cupping his eyes. Luke stared intensely at Sarah, and she suddenly looked up and glanced across the street. She saw the young boy fumble as he tried to hide the fact he was observing her. Sarah found it amusing and giggled at the embarrassed young boy, who turned his head away. The bus came to save Luke from prolonging the awkward moment and he literally jumped in like a hare. He walked down the aisle and sat in the very back and avoided the window seats.

* * *

"Inspector Grosky!" growled Chelmey.

"Yes Inspector Chelmey?"

"You know better to not share details of a case with a civilian, but to ask her to track down criminals?! That's just bloody ridiculous!"

"Now, now don't blow your top; she's more than capable to take down a few sluggers. Besides, we needed more muscle around here; I can't be carrying the entire Scotland Yard."

"That is not the point! If word gets out we don't know what's going on, Scotland Yard will lose face!" Grosky put his hand on Chelmey's shoulder, and gave a hearty pat.

"You're worrying it too much, and don't worry, Emmy won't say a thing to the general public!"

"What's that Inspector Grosky?" asked Emmy as she poked her head in from the doorway.

"Nothing Emmy, Inspector Chelmey here is being a worrywart."

Chelmey brushed his mustache and muttered under his breath. The two inspectors continued to argue and Emmy left Grosky's office. She headed downstairs to the lobby and saw Luke talking to the security guard.

"We can't have a young boy running around."

"But mister! I need to talk to Emmy!"

"Hey Luke!"

Luke turned to Emmy as she waved a hello. "Hello Emmy!"

"Don't worry officer, he's with me."

The security guard looked at the two youngsters momentarily, and then allowed it. She beckoned the boy to follow her into the building, but he shook his head.

"Emmy, I need your help!" cried Luke as he wrung his bag's strap.

"Oh? Professor Layton's number one apprentice asking me for help?" Emmy said with a smug face on.

"It's not like I wanted to!" he pouted, "The Professor is acting strange! He's not wearing his hat anymore, and says it isn't his."

"Not wearing his hat…?"

"I don't think it's possible, but…he might be an imposter!"

Emmy didn't look the least bit surprised; rather, she was in deep thought.

"Emmy…?"

"Oh, sorry Luke, I was just thinking about the case I was working on this morning."

"Now's not the time! We gotta go to his office!" shouted Luke as he grabbed Emmy's arm.

"W-Wait a minute!"

* * *

They both rode on Emmy's yellow scooter at max speed while swerving through traffic. Angry yells could be heard behind as they sped through them. She rolled her eyes and continued to rip down the streets. Emmy was certainly having fun, but Luke behind her was holding on to dear life. Nearing the university, the daring assistant checked to see if the streets were empty. She then lurched herself sideways, tipping the scooter extremely on the edge of its wheels, and did a perfect 180 degree parallel parking. The curb barely stopped them from throwing themselves into the concrete sidewalk. Emmy pulled off her helmet and let her hair puff up again.

"You know Luke, that took a long time to master, and I only pulled it off once."

Her waist was still being squeezed and felt shivering on her back. "Um…Luke?"

The poor boy was quivering and his face was frozen in fear. There were tears forming in his eyes.

"Let's not…do that again," Luke shakily responded.

"Oh."

Luke peeked into the keyhole, while Emmy stood idly by.

"So… what did the Professor exactly say about his hat?" asked Emmy as she picked her nails.

"He didn't even recognize it and he even asked me if it was mine! The more I think about it, the more I believe that man in the Professor's office is an imposter."

The assistant leaned back on the wall and thought for a moment. She then took out her notepad and began scribbling on it.

"Emmy! It's not the time!"

"Luke, question, Claire was the one who gave him the silk top hat, right?"

"Yup! She was Professor's girlfriend…wait, how did you kno-"

"OK then," said Emmy as she knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice said from the inside.

Emmy entered first while Luke tailed behind her.

"Hello Emmy. Luke, did you buy the ink?"

"Professor," his assistant started to say, "Do you know a woman named Claire?"

He gave a questioning look at the pair. "The name sounds unfamiliar, so I believe I don't."

Emmy and Luke gasped, and Professor Layton was slightly confused about their reactions. She put her hand to her face and sighed.

"Not you too Professor…"

The professor wrinkled his forehead.

"I presume you didn't buy the ink then?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:****The image guidelines made me paranoid, thus I spent two hours learning how to use gimp. I don't feel proud. And I felt Luke was really useless this chapter, oh well~ Feedback is much appreciated!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"So you're saying…I'm a victim too?" the professor asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," replied Emmy as she steered the wheel.

"I did have an inkling from what I read in yesterday's newspaper, could you give us a little more detail in this matter?"

"Yeah! I'm really confused," said Luke from the back seat.

"The police's investigation didn't get very far, but I have gathered my own clues," said Emmy as she pulled out her trusty notepad. "People have been getting short term memory losses with certain items. Take the Professor as an example."

"But that hat is very precious to the Professor! He would never forget something so important!"

"That's another thing; all the other victims don't remember their most valuable possession and anyone associated with it."

"Emmy," said Professor Layton.

"Yes Professor?"

"Everyone that has been affected, do they have the same condition as I do?"

"Apparently so, well, I don't know about the last three," responded Emmy as she flipped her notepad again. "I never got the chance to investigate them since Luke called me to your office."

The professor took her notepad and read the remaining profiles of the last three people. "You have their addresses written here."

"Yup, it's for just in case."

"Turn the car around Emmy," commanded the professor.

"Huh? Why?"

"I thought we were going to Scotland Yard for more information," said Luke.

"We're going to do our own investigation; starting from the ones Emmy hasn't investigated yet."

She spun the wheel and turned the car onto the opposite lane, cutting in between traffic. Cars honking and irritated hollering quickly followed, but none of the three seem to care. It grew quiet in the car, and the only sound made was Luke writing something in his own notebook. Professor Layton leaned back in the shotgun's seat, and looked down at the silk top hat he was holding. It was apparent that the hat was dear to him, and the fabric against his touch felt so familiar. He actually has seen this hat before, well in his strange dream last night._ I wonder…_

Professor Layton glanced over to his assistant. Emmy was clearly frowning, and her eyebrows knitted together. There was obviously something bothering her that she isn't saying.

"Emmy is there something wrong?" asked the professor.

"What?"

"You look troubled." He could see her forehead wrinkling in the car's mirror.

"It's nothing…really."

"Tell us! If you're hiding something important, then it's not fair!" pouted Luke. Emmy faced the mirror to see both the professor and his apprentice waiting for her to say something. She sighed.

"Well, it's not going to be pleasant," she warned.

"It's alright Emmy; I think we can handle it."

"…The police thought the memory losses were only temporary. Older incidents showed that victims continued to lose their memory, and it branches out from the first time." She looked at Professor Layton with a seldom face and continued in a quieter tone. "I'm afraid it might happen to you…"

"Wha-but! How?!" Luke cried. Emmy shook her head.

"I would like to know too. Doctors have been examining Katlyn Kittell, the very first victim. She forgot her own name and everyone she knew."

The young boy looked at the professor with worry. "What do we do…?" he whimpered. _Will the Professor forget me…?_

"Don't worry my boy," Professor Layton confidently said. He reassuringly smiled at the other two in the car. "This is indeed puzzling, but every puzzle has an answer."

* * *

"We're here at Phillip Tidwell's house," announced Emmy to the others. The three quickly climbed out of the Laytonmobile and walked to the front steps. It was a two story house with red shingles and a charming chimney sticking out. The house would be prettier if it wasn't sandwiched between two other buildings. Stepping on the welcome mat, Professor Layton knocked on the door with his knuckles. A woman with puffy red eyes opened the front door.

"H-Hello," greeted Mrs. Tidwell as she wiped her nose with a damp tissue. Her dark brown was frizzy and she had nails badly bitten. She put the tissue into her purple bathrobe's pocket.

"Hello is Mr. Tidwell here?" asked the professor.

"Yes," she sniffed, "Who are you people?"

"My name is Hershel Layton and we here to investigate the amnesia attacks and we'll like to see him."

Mrs. Tidwell nodded and let the crew in. "My…husband is in the bathroom, so please wait in the parlor."

"Excuse me but," Emmy stopped Mrs. Tidwell, "May I ask you a few questions about your husband."

"Yes," she sniffed again,"Would any of you like some refreshments?"

"Certainly," Professor Layton said taking up the offer, "If you don't mind of course."

"I just brewed a pot of tea; I'll go get some teacups." The three entered the parlor and sat on one of the white sofas. There was a nice round glass table in the middle between the two sofas on the flowery rug. The other sofa had a blanket and a bed pillow, and showed signs of someone sleeping on it.

"Gosh, I wonder what happened to Mrs. Tidwell," Luke wondered out loud.

"Poor lady, must be her husband," Emmy remarked.

Mrs. Tidwell came in with a tray of tea and a few finger foods. She set it down on the glass table and sat on the opposite sofa. The woman folded the patched blanket skillfully and put it aside with the pillow.

"Thank you Mrs. Tidwell," thanked the professor courteously.

"Please, call me Claudia."

"Claudia," Emmy began,"Has you husband been acting strangely, like forgetful?" Mrs. Tidwell immediately burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Yes! He has forgotten me! His own wife! Can you believe that?! We've been married for twenty years and not a single quarrel! It's like we're strangers now, he's so cold towards me, acting formal instead of calling me his favorite pet name he made up back in high school!" sobbed Claudia. "He doesn't even wear his ring now, he doesn't love me anymore!"

"There, there" the professor tried to comfort her, but she kept crying. Her eyes watered and became even redder. She took out the same damp tissue from her pocket and blew her runny nose into it. The professor took out a handkerchief from his jacket and offered it to the sobbing lady. She gladly took it and dabbed her tears.

"Thank you," she hiccupped, "I'll return this once I have washed it."

"No don't trouble yourself, you can keep it."

Luke took a sip of his tea and quietly watched the adults play heart mender.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm just so heart-broken."

"That's understandable, will you be alright?"

Mrs. Tidwell nodded her head. They heard heavy footsteps coming down the staircase, and Mr. Tidwell stepped in. The moment she saw him, Mrs. Tidwell excused herself and headed towards the dining room. Mr. Tidwell watched her with sad eyes as she left. He sat on the opposite sofa, but on a different seat.

"Hello!" boomed Mr. Tidwell with a large grin, flashing shiny white teeth, "I am Phillip Tidwell, a successful salesman! Are you here to discuss about business?"

"I am Hershel Layton, a professor at Gressenheller University."

"And I'm his assistant, Emmy," Emmy joined in.

"And I'm Luke, the Professor's number one apprentice!"

"Hoho! Quite a lively bunch. So you're the famous Professor Hershel Layton, don't you wear that fine top hat of yours?"

"Yes, well, today is a…special occasion."

"I won't pester you about it. Now, what does a good man of archeology want with a salesman?"

"It's about the amnesia attacks; surely you're aware of them?"

"Hmm," Mr. Tidwell thought as he pulled on his mustache, "Are you suggesting I am a victim?"

"It certainly seems like it, even your wife admits to your memory loss."

"My…wife? Oh yes, that lady, Claudia you mean?"

"Yes Claudia! She is absolutely devastated!" Emmy cut in. Her comment hurt the jolly man, and his mustache dropped at the corners, expressing his grief.

"She has been crying for the past two days…" he sighed as he rubbed his bald head in guilt. "I really don't know what to say…"

"Can you tell us what happened from the very beginning?" Professor Layton asked.

"I'm not so sure what happened, but I can try to tell you. It was two days ago, I woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning at the same time always. But I noticed someone was next to me in my bed, and it was Claudia. I didn't know her, so I thought I drank too heavily the day before, since I don't remember a single thing about the lady. She claims to be my wife, but I've been single my whole life! But…I believe her though."

"Why do you believe her mister?" Luke chipped in.

Rubbing his bald head, he looked down at his left hand. "I had an engagement ring on my ring finger, and look at the size of the ring finger compared to the others."

The three examined his left hand.

"I don't get it Professor," commented Luke.

"Me neither," Emmy said scratching her poofy* hair.

"Look closely at his ring finger, the part where a ring is usually worn is much slimmer, not to mention paler. It means he wore a ring for quite a long time without taking it off."

Mr. Tidwell nodded his head in agreement. "As expected from Professor Layton. I found documents proving our marriage, and it dates back to twenty years ago. She is a wonderful woman, and a great cook too, but I just-I don't-I-I can't remember a single thing about Claudia." He was rubbing the back of his bald head with a frown etched on his face. "I don't know what's going on…"

The four sat in silence, finally the professor spoke up.

"This may sound unusual and insensitive, but I have to know. Did you have any strange dreams on Saturday night?"

Emmy and Luke looked at the professor with confusion. Mr. Tidwell pulled on his mustache while thinking.

"Hmm, that is an unusual question…I don't know how it's related to my memory loss, but let me think. I tend to not remember dreams, but this one was quite clear."

"Can you please describe the events?"

"I think I was leaving my work late at night, not exactly a vivid dream. It was dark and no cars or anyone was in the streets but me. I guess I was walking home, but then I felt a tap on my shoulder. There was no one like I said, but then there was a slipping feeling on my finger, and that's when I saw this strange girl. It looked like she took a ring off my hand, and she ran. There was something else too, but I can't remember anything much else."

"How did the girl look like?"

"Hmm, she looked very young, maybe twelve or eleven. She also had a cape."

Professor Layton finished his tea and got up from the plush sofa. "That's all we need to know and we'll get to the bottom of this. Thank you for your time Mr. Tidwell." He stuck out his hand.

Mr. Tidwell also got up and met Professor Layton's hand with his own. "The pleasure is all mine, and I know you'll solve this Mr. Layton."

"We're going already?" Emmy asked.

"Yes, we have a lot more investigating to do."

Luke stuffed something from the tray into his mouth and left with the other two. They got in Laytonmobile, and Emmy started up the car.

"What were you asking him?" Emmy asked the professor.

"I just needed to confirm my suspicions, where are we headed next?"

"To Angel Louch's," Luke answered. "I wrote the addresses in my notebook too. Oh, Professor, the last two people have the same address."

"Must be an apartment complex, judging from their last names."

"It's near Scotland Yard," informed Emmy. "It shouldn't take long."

* * *

"Apartment number 310…310…310…there it is," pointed Luke. They shuffled down the cramped hallway. The paint was peeling and cracks streaked across the dirty walls. Lighting wasn't very bright, so they had to squint to see.

"This building is old, and the air is so musty!" blurted Emmy as she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Well, it seems they do have poor maintenance of the place."

Luke knocked on the door, but no one answered. He knocked even louder, but still no answer.

"I guess they aren't home."

"We'll come back later, let's go to-"The door unlocked and creaked open. A teen stood in the doorway twirling a strand of curly hair. She dressed casually, a simple black cat shirt and ivory pants. The teenager was chewing something in her mouth.

"_Munch-_What-_Munch-_do you want?" she rudely said with her mouth full.

"Hello young miss, is Angel Louch home?"

She swallowed whatever she was eating. "I'm Angel Louch. What do you want from me?"

"Pardon us, but we'll like to ask you a few-"

"No," she interrupted. Angel rolled her eyes in annoyance and clicked her tongue.

"What kind of attitude is that?" Luke spat.

"Someone outta teach you some manners," Emmy scolded. Angel leaned on the door frame and crossed her arms.

"Trying to get answers and yell at how people should act? Some manners you people have."

"That's enough you two," the professor silenced them and faced Angel. "I'm sorry for what they said, my apologies."

"_Tch_" Angel's tongue clicked. "I don't have any answers for you people, even the police tried to squeeze some information from me."

"The police?"

"Yeah, an inspector stopped by. He looked like he came out from a mystery novel, with his trench coat and fedora get up. You couldn't even see his face."

"Wait," Emmy said, "Did he mention his name?"

"No, but I don't really care. He didn't really bother me like you guys. The inspector showed me a picture of some girl and left."

"Hold on, what did the girl look like in the picture?" asked Professor Layton asked. _I wonder…_

"Ehhh…" Angel scratched her neck. "Don't remember. Does it really matter?"

"Please try to recall it, it's very significant," the professor's voice darkened.

"Alright, alright, sheesh. The girl looked younger than I; she had her hair in a braid."

"Was she wearing anything unusual, per say, a cape?"

"Nope, even I couldn't miss that. But… she wore a necklace, with a half of a star on the string."

"Ah!" Luke gasped.

"Is that all? I wanna get back to my lunch you know."

"Actually, there are-" Angel slammed the door in the professor's face.

"Hey! That's not very nice." Luke yelled.

"What a rude girl."

"It can't be helped, let's get going."

"Professor, wait a moment," Emmy said. "I need to go to Scotland Yard for a while."

"Why's that?"

"Angel said an inspector came by, and I know there aren't any inspectors who would wear a fedora. Besides, Scotland Yard isn't too far from here, I can just walk there."

"Hmm…we'll continue the investigation from here then, should we meet up afterwards?"

"I'll see you guys back at the university, I…er, kinda left my camera there…"

"No wonder why you weren't snapping any pictures!"

"Emmy," said the professor.

"Yes?"

"I know you can handle yourself well, but be careful."

Emmy could see what he was hinting at. There was a person impersonating as an inspector, and it could be dangerous. But, no one can match her in arm to arm combat.

"Right," she said and took off.

"Luke, who is the last person?"

"His name is Victor Drew, on the fourth floor."

"Let's go upstairs then."

The two walked up the staircase. The staircase from the third to fourth floor was coated in dust. The window by the landing had specks of dirt and made it grimy. Each step groaned under their feet.

"I can't believe anyone lives here," Luke said.

"The other staircases seem fine, so I don't think many people live on the top floor."

They made it to the final step and searched for room 420. The fourth floor's hallway was in worse condition than the third. Spider web like cracks connected together with thin cracks that looped infinitely on the walls. Some cracks made holes, revealing the hollow inside. Most of the lighting didn't work, and there was one bulb that flickered on and off.

"Look at the doors Professor!" The numbers on the doors were painted over, and each had tape lines making the letter "X" on them. The professor twisted a random doorknob, and it opened. Inside the apartment was vacant with no furniture or anyone.

"It seems no one lives in the apartments with tape over them." They continued down the hall, passing endless rows of doors with an X. At the end of the corridor, there was finally a door with no tape and a number on it. The number "420" was scribbled onto the plate hastily. Professor Layton knocked on the door, and the force of the knock pushed the door slightly.

"It opened…" said Luke as he tried to look in.

"I don't think the door was closed to begin with, so Mr. Drew must be out. We'll come back- Luke!"

The young boy had already swung the door wide opened. The smell of paint drifted by their noses, it was nauseating.

"Luke, you can't go barging in other people's homes without- what's this?" The apartment's walls were completely covered in canvases painted with a strange symbol. Each was either colored differently or had some design added to the background, but nonetheless contained the basic elements of the symbol. They both stepped in unknowingly and absorbed in their surroundings. The symbol consisted of a circle with a crescent embedded in it along with three stars hanging by the curve. There was some sort of zig-zag line attached to the top arc or both the circle and the crescent. On the far wall, there was a single portrait that didn't have the symbol.

Professor Layton walked towards it. "That painting! It's-"

"Who are you people? What are you doing in my apartment?"

The professor and Luke turned to the old man in the hall with art supplies.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: ****I wanted to upload this sooner so I didn't include Professor Layton's situation just yet, but it'll definitely be in the next chapter. Feedback is appreciated!**

* * *

Chapter 5

Emmy stepped out into the busy streets. She looked up at the clear blue skies as the sun's rays blinded her. It was a beautiful day, perfect to have a nice picnic. She hadn't realized because of all the investigating and confusion, so she took a moment to relax, and then continued to walk. There was a restaurant at the corner and the smell of roasted chicken filled her nostrils. Her stomach growled, begging for a bite. Emmy hadn't eaten yet, and it was so tempting to ditch and pig out. Resisting as hard as she could, she passed the restaurant, averting her eyes to distract herself. She looked at a sleek black car lined up by the curb, and saw someone's white coat flutter behind her from the car's side mirror. Emmy didn't mind the fine details and ignored it.

Inside the lobby of Scotland Yard, there was no one guarding the place. There was no security guard standing by the plant or behind the stationary post with barred windows. Taking it as an invitation, Emmy waltzed right in and headed for the stairs. She saw Inspector Chelmey's office and knocked on the door. It opened and Barton was at the doorway eating a biscuit.

"Hello Emmy," greeted Barton as he ate the last bites of the biscuit and swallowed.

"Hello Barton, is Inspector Chelmey out?" He quickly nodded and let Emmy in the Chelmey's office. It was crowded with furniture, and left little space for moving around. There was a tea set on the coffee table between two teal sofas, and Emmy dashed for the biscuits and crumpets. She couldn't help herself. They sat across one another on the sofas and Barton poured Emmy a cup of tea. She nodded in gratitude.

"The place seems empty, where is everyone?" she asked as Barton filled his chubby cheeks with mouthfuls of crumpets. His mustache outlined his frown and he looked down at his teacup.

"They left me behind to chase a new lead," he said as he sniffed. His beady eyes gleamed with tears and he took a sip.

"Aw, don't feel bad. At least you get to enjoy crumpets and tea." That didn't make Barton feel any better.

"All I can do is eat and wait, and Inspector Chelmey doesn't need me any more since he's with Inspector Grosky."

"Well…er," Emmy didn't know what to say to make him feel better. "Maybe you were left in the office for a reason, like, um, only something you can do."

"…I do make a mean Earl Grey tea…" Barton thought as he sipped his tea slowly.

"That's the spirit, and I bet you clean this office better than any other assistant."

"Yeah, you're right!" Barton stood up in resolve with his head high. "I'll make myself useful!"

"That's great, um," Emmy watched him dusting and tidying the office furiously. "Have you seen a man with a trench coat and fedora lately?" His purple hat swayed as he tried to balance the tall stack of record books in his arms.

"A trench coat and fedora…" Barton thought as he put the books back on their shelves. "Now that I think about it, I've seen him in the archives when I went down there; he was rummaging through the files and I think he was an inspector."

"You don't mind if I go to the archives now, right?"

"Not at all, but you'll need an inspector to let you in, they have the key to the archives."

"Do you know anyone with a spare key?"

"…I think, um, Monica should have one, she's at the desk."

"Thank you Barton, I'll see you later."

"Good-bye Emmy."

Emmy left and went to the desk. It was huge and made of bricks with a wooden top sealed down tightly. The back had a bookshelf filled with binders and a billboard was covered in notifications. There was a plant by the desk identical to the one in the lobby. Monica wasn't behind monitoring the desk as usual. There was a door that was slightly ajar with light seeping out. _She's probably in the other room._

Emmy saw an array of keys hooks on the side with different labels printed above each key. There was one labeled "Archive." She hopped over the brick desk and snatched the key, and then she quietly climbed over the desk and went down to the first floor. _Hopefully Monica won't find out…_

She unlocked the archive door and pulled on the string dangling from above. A dim light flickered to life, revealing the countless case files stuffed in the book shelves. The shelves to her right were a complete mess, with files and documents sticking out like a sore thumb. Everything else in the room was the same as last time when she came to get files pertaining to Mr. Barde's supposed suicide. Emmy tugged the jutting files free and flipped through them. A common symbol appeared frequently on the papers. It was a crescent with stars hanging from it and they were incased in a circle. There was also a zigzag line connecting the top arc to the crescent.

"Celestial Island…and this is their island's symbol. That's good to know." The last file was a profile of a young girl.

"Cecilia Locks, age ten...diagnose with Psychosis? Missing?" Emmy studied the file meticulously and examined the picture of the young girl. It depicted a girl with dark brown hair in a braid wearing a white sun dress with lace lining the edge. She looked so innocent with her huge light hazel eyes and so childish with her rosy cheeks and yellow rubber boots. A necklace hung from her small neck with an half of a star as a pendant.

Before she could continue to read about the poor girl, footsteps resounded in the archive. Emmy turned to the source and saw a man wearing a white trench coat with large pockets and black fedora with a white ribbon tied around it. The man was lanky and had a little hunchback due to his height. His trench coat reached to his knees but concealed his entire face with his fedora. She could see he wore skinny black pants and dress shoes.

"Who are you?" Emmy demanded an answer as she went into her defense stance. They faced each other, but she couldn't meet his eyes, they were hidden after all.

"Tracing my tracks, eh? You people have been after me all these years…" he flatly said in a hoarse raspy voice.

"What?"

"I can't let you or anyone find out. I'll be put in jail you know…so I have to silence you," his said as he took a few steps and started running at Emmy.

He lunged at her, his right fist aiming for her abdomen. She dodged to her left and let his right arm pass by her shoulder. She threw a punch with her left arm but he quickly blocked by crossing both arms. Emmy swiftly kicked his shielding arms to the side, forcing him to stumble to his right, leaving him open. She took the chance and uppercut his chin, sending his fedora flying, and she round house kicked him in his stomach. He toppled backwards to the ground, clenching his gut in pain. Emmy approached him to deliver the final blow and break him so he would surrender. She bent down on top of him and grabbed his trench coats' collar. His face was no longer covered, and she saw a pale man with graying hair. He had prominent crow's feet at his blue eyes. Emmy was about land another punch, but the man grabbed something from his pocket and pointed it directly at Emmy's face. She was looking into the end of a loaded revolver, and she froze in place.

"Heh heh…" he chuckled as he tried to catch his breath. Emmy's kick knocked the wind out of him. "Let go."

She did what she was told and backed off. He was still pointing his gun at her as he wobbled to his feet. Emmy was at blank point range of the gun. She gritted her teeth as the man sneered cockily.

"You know…I didn't expect you to be a fighter, since you are a woman. Good thing I stole this gun from that security guard who's sleeping under that booth of his. Now hand over those files."

Emmy was fuming and obediently gave him what he wanted. _How could I have been so careless…?_

He crammed the papers in his pocket. "I shouldn't have been so nice to leave these files here you know…now what am I going to do with you? Emmy cringed at the rhetorical question and the thought of worst case scenario.

"There are others working with you right? You know…I can use you as bait…"

The man tilted the handle of his revolver and Emmy suddenly felt a sharp pang from her temple. The pain traveled through her skull and she swore she heard a cracking noise. Her eyes rolled back into her head and blacked out before she dropped to the floor.

"Nothing too personal, you know? I'll have to go after the other two you were with."


End file.
